


First prize

by xJane



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:28:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xJane/pseuds/xJane
Summary: The one where Lucas buys a ticket to the crew's raffle because he really wants to win some of Manon's baking, but ends up with a far more tasty prize...
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 14
Kudos: 188





	First prize

**Author's Note:**

> Side note with absolutely no bearing on this story: I am physically not capable of starting to post a story before I've got it at least mostly written. Because, you know, things might happen in chapter seven which require some detail in chapter one to be changed, or clarified, or whatever. So it'll take a while before I can start posting a longer story. But since we all need more fluff to keep us sane and stable these days, I decided to post this quick one-shot. Not really anything deep or world-changing, but you know, get your thrills where you can these days, right?
> 
> Hope you enjoy...

“So, Daph, what exactly is the deal?”

Lucas looked at Daphné, still not sure it was smart to get involved in Daphné's latest scheme.

“Well, to raise money for the foyer –”

Oh, fuck, was she still going on about that stupid foyer? Lucas had been somehow dragged into caring about the foyer by Imane, who’d blackmailed him into coming to the first meeting Daphné had organized, and Basile, who’d realized he’d fallen head over heels with Daphné at that same meeting and kept volunteering the boys for all sorts of inane tasks she needed to get done. Lucas shuddered at the memory of the gang painting over that horrific mural. It had taken forever and the result was almost just as much an eyesore as the shit they covered up. The girls had not been impressed, and Lucas had hoped they’d refrain from involving the gang in any more foyer related business. Seemed he had – sadly – been mistaken. 

“– We are going to hold a raffle. We’ll sell tickets to win prizes, you know, Manon is going to make a bunch of cakes, and things like that.”

It was not the worst idea Daphné had ever had, Lucas had to admit. He shrugged.

“Okay, that could work. And what do you need from me, then?”

“Oh, really, nothing much, Lucas! If you could just help man the ticket booth for an hour or so, it would make things easier on us girls.”

Lucas eyed the blonde girl suspiciously.

“You want me to sell tickets for your raffle?”

“Yeah, that’s it! Just man the booth, sell tickets to the other students, that’s all!”

“I don’t know, Daph… I don’t think I’d be much good at that stuff…”

“Oh, really Lucas, it’s not hard! Besides, that angel face of yours would get all the girls in line, for sure…”

Yeah. That did not exactly reassure Lucas. He just had managed to convince Chloé that he wasn’t really interested, and it had not gone easy. The girl had been upset – which Lucas could hardly blame her for – and angry – again, not that she was in the wrong. It just added to Lucas’ guilt. He definitely didn’t need to hook up with any more girls, because this charade became harder on everybody involved the longer he kept it going. He hadn’t known things were so serious for Chloé. He never wanted to hurt any of the girls he kissed, but it was bound to go seriously wrong sooner rather than later. He sighed. Maybe he should just tell Yann… He assumed Mika had guessed already, and if he was honest, he just didn’t want to remain hiding like this forever.

Daphné shook him out of his reverie.

“Lucas? So can I put your name on the list?”

How much harm could it do?

“Sure. One hour, Daphné, no more!”

She shrieked – Lucas just managed to stop himself from covering his ears – and jumped into his arms.

“Thank you, Lucas! You’re a lifesaver! We love you!”

~

It hadn’t been too bad, in all honesty. Lucas had sold a bunch of raffle tickets, most of them to Basile who didn’t care he was spending all his money, as long as Daphné would look at him without the frown she usually bestowed on him. Bas being his usual idiot self had stopped the girls buying tickets from Lucas from flirting too hard with him, which Lucas counted as a win. 

So by the end of the day, Lucas had felt rather magnanimous and had bought one of the last tickets himself. He’d figured the girls would appreciate his support, and if he got some more of Manon’s cooking out of it, he wouldn’t complain. At first, he’d felt put upon when he had been forced to relocate to the couch when Manon had suddenly appeared back at the flatshare, but her cooking was so good that not having a real bed was a small price to pay.

“Okay everybody, keep your tickets ready, we will start calling the winning numbers!”

Daphné sounded perky as usual, and Basile sighed next to Lucas.

“Why does she have to be so pretty, Lucas? I just hope I win a date with her.”

Wait.

“What? You can win a date with Daphné in this raffle?”

“Uh, yeah? Why did you think I bought so many tickets?”

Oh. Lucas hadn’t known there were dates to be won. Oh, fuck. He looked at his ticket with mistrust. He hoped he didn’t win a date with some girl – he didn’t think he could come up with any more excuses. 

“Better hope you don’t win one with Emma, though, Bas!”

How come everybody but Lucas seemed to know what exactly was being raffled off here?

“Emma’s up too? Uh… who else is, Arthur?”

Arthur grinned widely.

“Oh, Lucas, who are you interested in?”

Lucas scoffed.

“Nobody, Arthur, but seeing as I have a ticket here, I’d better prepare.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s just Daphné, Emma and Alexia. They wanted Manon to do one too, but she refused after the whole thing with Charles. Oh, and Imane refused too, but she said she might be able to convince her brother to do one.”

Okay, that was not too bad then. If he won a date with Emma, they’d drink their heads off, if it was Daphné he could just offer to do something else that needed to be done for the foyer, and Alexia was cool, they’d hang out and she would not expect anything more.

Lucas felt his shoulders relax. He lost interest in Daphné calling numbers, and people going up to collect whatever prize they’d won. Imane had won the date with Daphné, which lead to Basile throwing away all his tickets in despair. Chuckling, Lucas had started picking them up, as Basile muttered a bunch of nonsense about how stupid it was that girls could even win dates with girls, and how he clearly had way more rights to go out with Daphné than Imane, _they already hang out all the time anyway, I just need a chance, Lucas, don’t you see_ , but Lucas didn’t pay him much attention. Between Basile’s outrage and the sheer amount of tickets Lucas needed to pick up, he missed the rest of the numbers that were called.

When he realized the crowd was dispersing, he went over to Daphné and the girls.

“So, that went fine, didn’t it?”

Daphné looked pleased.

“I think it went perfectly! Only strange that nobody claimed the date with Eliott, don’t you think?”

“Eliott? Who’s Eliott?” Lucas racked his brain, but he didn’t know an Eliott in their school.

“Oh,” Imane said, “Eliott’s my brother’s friend. Idriss didn’t want to do it, and Daphné said we needed a date with a guy in the prizes since we’d already communicated it –” _really_ , Lucas wondered, _where had all this communication about the raffle prizes been, he’d certainly never seen any of it_ , “so Eliott said he’d do it. But looks like he’d never needed have bothered, since nobody claimed it in the end.”

Lucas laughed and put all Basile’s tickets on the table.

“Anyway, here’s a bunch of non-winning tickets. Can I leave them here?”

“Sure, Lucas,” Daphné chirped, “we’ll recycle them, it’s the environmentally conscious thing to do, so thanks for –”

“Wait a minute!” Emma interrupted, and Daphné turned to her, hands on her hips, ready to chide Emma, when Emma grabbed one of the tickets from the table.

“What was the number again, Daphné? For the date with Eliott?”

Daphné, taken aback by this turn in the conversation, took a look at the spreadsheet clipped to her binder.

“362, why?”

A glint appeared in Emma’s eyes.

“Because, dear friends, it seems we have a winner!”

With a triumphant smile, she slammed a ticket on the table.

“362!”

Daphné looked irritated.

“Emma! Why didn’t you claim it earlier?”

“Oh, I didn’t have this ticket.” Emma shrugged nonchalantly. “I would not let a date with some hot dude pass, Daphné, not my style. But no, this ticket is not mine. It's _his_.”

She looked at Lucas like the cat who got the milk, a smirk all over her face.

“What?”

Lucas knew he sounded bewildered.

“No, those weren’t mine… They are Basile’s… He really wanted to win a date with Daphné so he bought a bunch…”

“Oh, no, Lallemant. You brought this ticket here, you won fair and square.” Emma had way too much fun with this.

Lucas decided he needed to play this cool.

“Oh, well. Emma, you can have my ticket, if you want. Early birthday present, and all that… You said you weren’t one to pass on a date with a hot dude, anyway, so please, be my guest…”

His voice rose. How did Emma even know this guy was hot?

“Well, it _is_ your ticket, Lucas. And Emma already has to go out with Alex, since he won a date with her in the raffle.”

Daphné had barely finished when Manon spoke.

“Yeah, Lucas, you brought us the ticket, the prize is yours. Those are the rules.” 

Lucas started panicking. His throat constricted and he couldn’t breathe properly.

“Really, I don’t mind. Besides, we can hardly ask this guy to go on a date with another guy, right?”

Lucas laugh sounded fake even to his own ears. 

They all turned to Imane.

She looked at Lucas with that impenetrable gaze of hers, like she was reading Lucas’ mind. Lucas fucking prayed she _wasn’t_. She seemed to be weighing a bunch of possibilities against each other in her head, and Lucas felt as if he was waiting for a verdict in a trial that could change his whole life. After what felt like ages, Imane seemed to reach a decision.

“Eliott wouldn’t mind. He’s pansexual.”

Lucas tried to swallow but failed spectacularly. He started coughing violently.

“And well, Lucas, it doesn’t have to be a _date_. You’d like Eliott. You could just hang out; it wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it? You might meet a new friend!”

Lucas did think it best if he didn’t try to speak at that very moment. Manon gently slapped his back as he kept coughing. 

“I’ll just pass him your number, okay, Lucas? Don’t worry too much about it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lucas tried to tell her no, tried to say it was Basile’s ticket, but no words came out. And then Emma took pity on Lucas and decided to help. 

“Here, have a look. He’s cool.”

And Lucas really lost it when he saw the Instagram page Emma had pulled up. Cool was _so_ not the word he’d use to describe the guy. Gorgeous came to mind, breath-taking too, _sex on fucking legs_ seemed to be particularly fitting as well. What’s the worst that could happen, indeed.

~

Lucas willed the clock to go faster, so he could get out of school and meet Eliott. Imane, true to her word, had given his number to Eliott, and he’d texted Lucas that same night, saying Imane told him he’d won the date, and she thought the two of them could be friends, so obviously a date was not necessary, but maybe they could just meet up for a coffee or something.

And Lucas, who felt like a creep, because he’d been stalking the Instagram profile Emma had showed for the better part of the evening, had felt so guilty he’d agreed – then immediately feeling guilty again, because he’d actually not mind if they’d call it a date after all. It's not like attractive men were lining up for dates with him, might as well grab the opportunity when it presented itself, right?

Anyway, they were supposed to meet up after school today. They’d already gotten along great over text. Lucas had been glued to his phone this past few days, the conversation with Eliott never really stopping, just slowing down sometimes. The boys had commented on it, and he’d even got told off by one of their teachers for using his phone in class. 

Lucas was nervous. It was stupid to like somebody after only a few days of texting, but he did. They’d talked a lot, late in the evening, when Lucas was lying on his couch and couldn’t sleep. Yesterday night, or rather early this morning, Lucas had told Eliott about his mom, how hard it was to just stand by helplessly as she went through whatever her brain threw at her, and Eliott had told him about his bipolar disorder, how he’d fucked up pretty bad in the past, and how grateful he was for the few people who just accepted him for who he was. That had comforted Lucas a bit, and he’d sent his mother a good morning text to which she had replied as any mom would, without any warnings about the coming apocalypse. Lucas knew it was coincidental, or a sign that the treatment was working, but he felt as if Eliott was somehow to thank for it.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he missed the bell signaling the end of class. Yann pushed at his shoulder, and Lucas started stuffing his books in his backpack.

“You wanna come over to my place and play Fifa?”, Yann asked, already having packed his stuff, ready to go.

“Oh, uh, no, I can’t, sorry.”

Lucas hadn’t told the boys about the raffle ticket, and for some reason, the girls hadn’t brought it up either. Eliott felt like his secret, and he wanted to tell Yann, but he knew Yann would ask all sorts of questions, and Lucas would have to spill the whole truth. He knew he couldn’t put it off much longer… yet he kept chickening out. 

“Oh, okay, see you tomorrow then, bye!”

Yann sauntered off, and Lucas walked slowly out of the schoolyard, past the guard, making his way to the café where he was supposed to meet Eliott. The closer he got, the more butterflies he felt. _It’s not a date, Lucas_ , he told himself sternly, but his treacherous brain kept enabling him: _But it_ could _be, Lucas, if you wanted it to_.

He reached the café and immediately saw Eliott sitting at a small table near the door, looking like a fucking model or something, straight off the pages of some magazine.

Suddenly the nerves he’d managed to keep at bay for most of the day were back with a vengeance. He couldn’t bring himself to open the door and go in. He stood frozen to the ground, trying to shake himself out of it. _You’re just meeting a mate for coffee, Lucas_.

Suddenly Eliott looked up, straight at Lucas, and a smile appeared on his face. _Fuck_. Lucas pretended he hadn’t noticed Eliott – _as if anybody with eyes and a beating pulse would ever not notice Eliott_ – and went into the café, past Eliott, intending to go order, when suddenly a voice reached him.

“Lucas? I’m here.”

Lucas turned on his heel. Eliott was looking at him, smile still on his face, and fuck, all Lucas’ Instagram stalking had _not_ prepared him for the real thing. Eliott was magnetizing, his whole demeanor was open and relaxed, and Lucas could absolutely not deny his full-fledged crush any longer.

“Oh, uhm, hi! Sorry, I –”

“No problem, I’ll come with you to order, what would you like? They have great lattes. Are you hungry? We could share a muffin if you like.”

Lucas stared at Eliott and let himself be taken by the elbow to the counter. Too stunned to protest, he let Eliott order two lattes and a muffin – _Chocolate okay, Lucas?_ – before he was led back to the table.

Eliott grinned brightly at Lucas.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

And at that, Lucas felt himself loosen up, and he grinned back, and he let himself be mesmerized by Eliott’s sparkling grey eyes and dizzying smile.

~

A few hours, another drink – Lucas was smart enough to order for himself this time, no more latte bullshit – and another shared muffin later, Lucas was lost. They’d talked non-stop, teased each other constantly – about their taste in music: _Dubstep, honestly? That’s not even music, Eliott! – Well, at least it is from this century, grandpa;_ their coffee choices: _Which self-respecting Frenchman puts sugar in his coffee, Eliott? – You just go with the mass, Lucas, like all the other sheep, I’ll sip my sweet coffee here while you all burn your tongue on the bitterness, fine by me…_ ; about their studies: _Arts? You ever hope to make money with that, or are you happy portraying the cliché of the pauper willing to starve for his arts? – We’ll see when your fat doctor’s paycheck is not nearly enough to buy my masterpieces, Lucas, maybe it would be best if I gave you one for free right now_ – after which Eliott had doodled a raccoon and a hedgehog on a napkin, writing underneath it _I’ll accept an affinity for black coffee and bad music taste if it comes in the form of a cute hedgehog_. Lucas had felt his cheeks go pink, and had asked why he was a hedgehog to cover his blush. And that’s when Eliott had started to explain how hedgehogs were spiky but cute, and protective of who they loved, and Lucas had blushed even harder. 

He wished he would be bold enough to ask Eliott if he was trying to flirt with Lucas, because to Lucas' inexperienced brain it certainly looked like it. The compliments, the accidental touches, it all worked together to make Lucas hyperaware of Eliott, of his eyes, his mouth – god, his mouth. Lucas stared at it while Eliott was animatedly talking about some pretentious movie Lucas had never seen, and in the middle of a sentence, Eliott stopped talking, and smiled before Lucas had the time to whip his eyes up again – leading to yet another deep blush.

The barista came over to their table.

“Guys, uhm, I’m sorry, but we’re about to close…”

Lucas looked around in surprise. The café had emptied without him even noticing. Eliott nodded and stood up.

“Come on, hedgehog. Let’s go.”

Lucas laughed breathlessly. He blushed at Eliott’s pet name. Surely, he was flirting, right? Eliott slung an arm around his shoulder and they walked out. Lucas wished the evening didn’t have to end.

“So, I guess that was our date then.”

Lucas looked at Eliott with wide eyes.

“D-date?”

Eliott closed his eyes.

“Oh, fuck. I didn’t mean date-date, just, you know, uh, date as in a planned get-together… Sorry, Lucas, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything…”

“Uh, no… You didn’t make me uncomfortable… Just surprised me, is all.”

Eliott stopped walking and stood in front of him, looking him dead in the eyes.

“You wouldn’t be uncomfortable if a guy would refer to hanging out with you as a date?”

“Well… it’d depend on who… but…” Lucas hesitated, then took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and managed to stammer, “No. Not necessarily.”

Eliott didn’t answer and Lucas opened his eyes slowly, unsure of what he’d see. What he saw made his heart skip a beat. Eliott’s eyes were so bright and his grin was impossibly wide.

“No? Because then I might call it a date after all.”

Lucas felt his own mouth turn up into a grin to mirror Eliott’s.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Eliott laughed.

“Are you against kissing on the first date, Lucas?” Eliott’s eyes were full of mischief, and something else, something deep, something Lucas wanted to see reflected in Eliott’s eyes forever.

And as soon as Lucas’ brain started working again, he leaned in, and with his lips inches from Eliott’s, whispered, “Not at all.”.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to point out any mistakes (am I the only one who edits like twenty-eight times, and then finds a bunch of mistakes as soon as they hit post?)!
> 
> Also, please leave a comment, if you'd like.


End file.
